


5 Times Tony Got Peter Out + the One Time He Couldn't

by itsreallylaterightnow



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1, 5+1 Things, Car Accident, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt and comfort, Peter Parker Needs Better Self-Preservation Skills, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-03-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22681414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsreallylaterightnow/pseuds/itsreallylaterightnow
Summary: Tony is always there for Peter. Always. But God, it can be exhausting when the kid has the worst self-preservation skills in the world. But, that's why he has Tony.or5 times Tony got Peter out + the one time he couldn't
Relationships: Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker/Michelle Jones, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Comments: 104
Kudos: 379





	1. Wreck

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyy! I keep starting new works! I can't be controlled! I hope you all enjoy!

“Mr. Stark, I just really don’t feel comfortable with this -” Peter’s voice held a slight waiver to it as his hand clenched into a fist around the key fob in his hand. Tony had told him that he wanted to teach Peter to drive, which Peter had been excited about… until he learned that he would be driving Mr. Stark’s newest convertible that cost more than the tuition to MIT. 

“Oh, come on Pete. You’ll do just fine!” Tony said, clapping a hand on the kid’s shoulder as the two of them stepped into the garage. “You’ve got to learn how to drive, and it’ll be fun! You’re too serious kid, most people your age would be dying to drive this car.” Tony waved his hand in front of the censor, sliding into the car after the door floated up.   
Peter took a deep breath before sliding in behind the wheel. The seat was a bit too close to the wheel, but Peter had no clue how to move it, and he didn’t want to risk messing something up by hitting the wrong button. 

“Alright, hit the button.” Peter gulped and did what Tony said. Despite how much he didn’t want to do this, the way this car revved up had his stomach jumping in excitement.   
Tony smiled at him. “Now, go ahead and put it in drive. Remember, this car is very sensitive, okay? Not saying that to scare you, just be gentle. It’s got a little more power in it than the Audi we’ve been practicing in.” Peter nodded, looking down at the gear shift with a knot forming in stomach. “Kid – you’ve got to breath. We’re going to take it slow, alright?” Tony knew that Peter was terrified, but he needed to help the kid get ready to drive, and why not have some fun while they’re at it. 

Peter’s foot touched the gas, and he barely pressed down as the engine began to rev. The car rolled out of the garage, and Peter took a deep breath as they hit the driveway of the compound. The wheel shook slightly as they moved along the lane. 

“Pete – I know I said the vehicle was sensitive, but you are going to have to go faster than ten miles an hour at some point.” Tony said with a tease. 

“Yeah – Mr. Stark. Okay – okay.” Peter said as though reassuring himself. “Once we are out of the driveway.” He said as he pressed the break carefully rolling to a stop at the gate that rolled open when it sensed them. Peter pressed the gas again, a little to hard this time and the car lurched forward. He felt his heartrate spike as he in turn slammed the break, throwing them both against their seatbelts. 

Peter felt tears forming in his eyes. “I’m sorry – Mr. Stark, I’m so – I’m so sorry!” He turned to his mentor, but paused when he just saw the man laughing in his seat. Peter felt a little spark of indignation festering in his chest. “You drive. I’m done, I don’t want to - ”

“No – no. You’re doing fine, Pete. I did the same thing when I first drove it. You’re doing fine. There’s never any traffic out here. Just go to the first stop sign and back, its exactly five miles.” Peter nodded as Tony got his laughter under control, and he touched the gas again, barely moving forward as the car hit the road. 

For the first five minutes Peter stayed right at the speed limit of forty-five miles an hour, not daring to go any faster. They made it to the stop sign and Peter slowed the car down. 

“How was that?” He asked expectantly, turning to look at his mentor. Tony was smiling softly. 

“Really good Pete. See, it’s not as terrible as you’d think. You’re even smiling.” Tony pointed out. “Alright, three-point turn, and we will start back going home.” Peter did as told, pulling forward a bit before he reversed and then started back on the other side of the road. 

“I think – it’s not as bad as I thought. You’re right.” Peter mumbled, pressing his foot down a little harder as the car picked up the pace. 

“What? Sorry, I didn’t hear you?” Tony quipped as Peter rolled his eyes.

“Haha, very funny.” Peter said as Tony’s hand found the radio, turning the song up. 

“You shook me all night long!” The song played as Peter continued to move a bit faster. Peter grinned as the trees began to roll by in a blur. 

“I Love Led Zepplin!” He called out over the sound of the music. 

“Oh come-” Tony’s face dropped into his hands. “We have got to work on that.” He muttered.

And it was right when Peter had gotten comfortable. He was smiling, going a few miles over the speed limit as the music played and he was settling into the purr of the engine. It happened too quickly. Maybe his spider-sense was off-kilter because of how relaxed he had been, but it spiked up a second to late. 

Peter’s foot found the break as he stared straight ahead. 

He hadn’t been prepared for something to come from his left. 

A large vehicle slammed directly into Peter’s side and everything crunched. 

Peter doesn’t think he blacked out. He doesn’t remember his vision going dark. He remembers sliding, a heavy weight pressed over top of him. Bone-shattering pain, and the dripping of liquid as everything stopped spinning. 

He heard someone’s heavy breathing beside him, and he wanted to do the same – but all he could manage were quick, pinched gasps. Peter could swear he heard something rumbling beside him. A low deep vibration as someone’s hand touched his right arm. Peter’s head was swimming. It felt like when you were a kid, and you stuck your head underwater in the bathtub and everything zoned out. 

Then, the cork was pulled and everything faded right back in. Pain. So much pain, and he couldn’t breathe. 

“Pete! God, kid, come on. I need you to look at me!” The voice – Tony – was next to him and so worried. Peter peeled his eyes open, wincing at the pain in his forehead. His face was pressed up against the steering wheel, and he wanted to not be. 

“T’ny.” Peter whimpered. 

“Okay, okay, bud. I’m here. Hang on, just hang on. I’m going to get you out of here. Let me call the compound, alright?” Peter wanted to ask what on earth Mr. Stark was talking about, but he could hardly catch a breath. 

“Steve – get, we need a bus, now. Kid’s down. Bring Rhodes, and – the suits. He’s, God he’s pinned down… some idiot t-boned us in a truck. It looks like the front of the truck went straight over top of us -” Tony’s voice faded out as Peter stared at the floor board, dust and liquid were pooling in the bottom. Something red. Swirling in with chipped paint and dust. 

Someone’s hand was on his shoulder and Peter looked up at Tony. 

“Alright, they’re three minutes out, buddy. We’re going to get you out okay?” Peter wanted to nod, wanted to say something re-assuring, but instead he coughed violently, blood bubbling out of his mouth and down his chin. “Shit – shit – okay. God, Steve please hurry!” Tony muttered as his hand found Peter’s head. 

It was a terrible sight. The truck had ramped up on top of the sport’s car and was resting directly over Peter. The roof of the car was crunched in, pressing down directly on Peter’s back and neck, pressing his face into the steering wheel, turning him to the right and keeping the kid from moving at all. Peter had a busted forehead, blood pooling down over the kid’s eyes, and he couldn’t speak, could hardly breath. Tony knew that the damage was internal, and that terrified him more than anything. 

“Hey, Peter, I need you to keep your eyes open, okay? Don’t try and talk, just focus on breathing and keeping your eyes on me.” Tony spoke reassuringly, ignoring the way his left wrist stung as he took Peter’s free hand in his own. Peter blinked slowly, his right hand squeezing every so slightly. 

“Hey, guess what? I hear the crew coming in, alright. We’re going to get this off you, no problem. Squeeze my hand if you understand.” Squeeze. 

“Tony!” He heard Rhodey, and his friend’s voice had never sounded sweeter. 

“In here! Get the truck off of him, have Cho on stand-by to get to the kid!” He called out, as his friend ran to the passenger side, looking in through the busted window. Rhodey saw the unmoving boy, and he nodded quickly. 

“The bus is almost here. Two seconds and we’ll have the truck gone.” Then his friend was gone, and Tony just continued to watch and listen as Peter struggled to breath, his lips tinting blue. 

He felt the movement, and heard the ear-piercing screech of metal grinding on metal. Peter whimpered, and Tony had no doubt the kid was terrified and confused as a loud crash indicated the truck being dropped from the caved-in roof. 

“Hey, bud, listen – they’ almost have you un-stuck, okay? Then Cho is going to come make you feel better really soon!” 

“Stark!” A female voice said from behind him. 

“Speaking of really soon.” Tony muttered turning back to find Cho. 

“Put this on him, They’re going to use the suit to cut the metal out from around him, the door is wedged in. I’ve got medical standing by, but I want you to go ahead and get him on oxygen.” She handed him a mask, and Tony turned to slip it over the kid’s mouth when his heart stopped.

“Peter! Pete, hey – you wake up! Right now!” Tony’s voice was loud and frantic, and he didn’t give one care who heard him if it helped. Peter, started, his eyes jumping open as he blinked sluggishly. 

Peter was so confused, and in pain. He felt something cool being pressed over his nose and mouth and he tried to pull his head away but – ah. He could breathe.   
Peter closed his eyes in the relief of the cool oxygen. It still wasn’t enough, he lungs were screaming to expand fully, but though the pressure had been somewhat relieved, it wasn’t helping fully. Peter heard the sound of metal being tugged and pulled, and ow! 

But then it was gone. 

“Alright, bud, I’ll be right back okay.” Peter blinked up, watching Tony as he slipped out of the passenger door and around the other side of the car. 

Tony watched as Rhodey and Bucky pulled the deformed roof back, revealing Peter’s bloody and bruised back. He wanted to throw up, but it wasn’t time for that right now.   
Cho and her team leapt into action, strapped a C-collar onto the kid before removing him from the car. The team set Peter straight onto the spinal board and began strapping him in the kid grunted with every movement, pain evident in his face. Someone got an IV and pulse-ox on the kid as they began to move him towards the personal ambulance that Tony had bought last year. 

“Shit – he’s not getting enough oxygen. We need to intubate now!” Cho said as they rushed Peter into the vehicle. 

Someone’s hands found Tony. A face was leaning in, asking him questions, and Tony just stared at the person. A shake to his shoulders brought him back into his head. 

“Tony! Are you okay?” It was Sam Wilson, dark eyes looking at him with fear. Tony blinked.

“Yeah. Bumped my head, sprained wrist. The kid took all of –“ It was like his lungs had been sucked of all their air and he bent down, hands braced on his legs.

“Alright, alright. Hey, kid’s going to be fine. Cho’s the best of the best, that’s why you hired her. Let’s just get you to the med-bay, get you checked out.” Sam placed steadying arms on Tony’s own and moved him towards another vehicle. Someone – at some point – put a blanket over his shoulders as Tony just followed to wherever he was lead.

-

It had been a couple of hours, Tony had been sat in a waiting room chair with food sitting on the coffee table beside him the entire time. May had arrived at some point, worried but calm. Pepper had been running her lithe fingers through Tony’s hair, encouraging him to calm down. To be fair, he was quite calm. Bruce had given him … something. To   
keep his blood pressure and heartrate down, saying something about keeping Tony from having a heart attack. He figured that was fair. 

“Don’t bother standing up.” Cho said entering the room and sitting across from the family. She looked tired but at peace. “He’s going to be fine. It will be… a long recovery. He fractured two vertebrate in his neck, suffered a punctured lung, many broke ribs, and his left arm has pins in it. He’ll be okay, it’ll just take time and patience.” She said calmly. Tony, although immensely worried by the long list of injuries, felt his entire body relaxing. “And before you ask, yes you can all go see him. We got the room set up for at least three visitors to be able to stay with him. He’ll be out for the rest of the night, but I know he will be happy to see you all when he wakes up.”


	2. Drunk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so before you read this, please understand that I have never once in my life been drunk. Its not my thing, so this was based purely off my research, movies, and imagination. Please enjoy. 
> 
> Warning: My boy throws up and has a panic attack in this, just so you know :)

It had been a month and a half since the event that still had Peter terrified to go near a car. He couldn’t remember much. Being crushed, Tony rubbing his hands over Peter’s face, and pain. So much pain. Peter had just gotten out of the neck brace, and he had never been more relieved for something in his life. He had thought he was supposed to heal quicker than the average person, and he had tried arguing with Cho, but she had told him over and over again that if he hadn’t been enhanced, he would have been dead.   
He didn’t care. He wanted to be done. His left arm had been crushed. Cho had taken the pins out two weeks ago, and Peter was just getting used to holding something in that hand again. She hadn’t said it, but Peter knew that Cho was doubting whether he would ever receive full range of that arm again. 

Peter walked out of Midtown, waving bye to Ned and MJ as he headed to the curb where Happy was waiting for him. The older man waved at him and Peter waved back with his free hand. 

Happy opened the door, offering to take Peter’s backpack from him, but Peter just shrugged away from him, shooting him a look. “I can handle my own backpack, Hap.” The man nodded before returning to his seat. As Happy started the car, Peter took in a deep breath, clenching his right hand in a fist to keep his shaking hands from being visible. “You know, I’m not inept.” Peter grumbled. He normally wasn’t this hard on Happy. He knew the man meant well, but this had been a bad day to rival all other bad days. Flash had been unbearable. Harassing and teasing, to the point of sticking out his foot and causing Peter to trip. MJ had punched him straight in the nose for it, Ned helping him up off the floor but that hadn’t been the problem. Sure, it had sent a sharp stab of pain up his arm and neck, but he never would have tripped before the accident. He felt as though his head had been stuck in a cloud for the past few months, his spider-sense had been all off-kilter – and he was terrified that it would never be back to normal. He had to have Spider-Man in his life. If he couldn’t be Spider-Man, he would go insane. 

“Peter?” The voice beside him pulled Peter straight from his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Peter answered as he turned his head to look at the man who was pulling out onto the street. 

“I just asked how your day was?” Peter caught the glimpse of concern that was on the man’s face, but he chose to ignore it. 

“Yeah – it was fine.” Peter muttered as he looked back out the window, watching as the city went by slowly. It was check-up day. Cho would stick and prod him, telling him to take off the sling and poke around his sore arm and that only added to the edge that his nerves had taken on. 

So the shock he felt when the breaks of the Audi screamed, and he was sent forward in his seat as his seatbelt jerked against his chest was brutal. It had been a small fender-bender. The car in front of Happy having slammed on their breaks without leaving any room for the man to stop before-hand. It was uncomfortable but in the functioning part of his brain, Peter knew that no one was going to be hurt. 

But in his mind, all he felt was weight – a horribleterriblepleaseGodgetitoffofme – weight as he gasped out loud at the pain in his neck and arm. His free hand flew to his seatbelt, and he needed to get outoutoutoutoutoutoutoutoutoutoutoutout! 

“Peter!” A voice said to him, as he stumbled from the vehicle onto the road, glass crunching under his feet. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe, and he needed someone to help him. “Kid!” Two arms took ahold of his, and he was forced to face Happy, worry lines evident on his face. “Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay. Can you sit down for me?” Happy ask calmly as Peter trembled violently. 

He followed the arms to a curb and allowed them to push him into sitting. A hand touched the back of his head, pressing his face into his knees as a hand rubbed his back.   
“Listen, I’m going to get Tony to come pick you up, okay? I’m just going to call him in from his meeting – “ 

“No. ‘M fine.” Peter said as he sat up, his voice wavering despite the fact that he was forcing deep breaths into his lungs. He had taken so much time from Tony, and he was sick of being looked at with pity. “I just am going to go home.” Peter said, standing up quickly. He saw spots in his vision, but he forcibly blinked them away.

“Do you think I’m crazy? No, sit down.” Happy said as he turned to look at the police officers arriving on scene.   
“No! I’m sick of being looked at like I’m about to break. I’m a senior in high school, I want to go to my house, so I am going to go to my house!” Peter yelled, turning around and walking off. Screw his cell-phone, screw every person in his life that thought he needed to be bubble-wrapped and stuck in a closet for the rest of his life. 

Peter made it to his apartment in record time, ripping the sling from his arm and slamming his right hand on the counter hard enough for it to crack. 

Turning his back, Peter slid down against the cabinets as tears began to fall from his eyes as his body shook with sobs. He could still feel the weight on his back, and it wasn’t getting better. His hands shook violently as anger boiled in his blood. 

Standing in haste Peter did something he had never done. 

He wasn’t one to drink. He had tasted a few different types of alcohol, but it just wasn’t much his thing. He had always assumed that he wouldn’t be able to get drunk until him and Ned had had a few too many drinks at a party. Tony hadn’t been mad, just thankful that the two tipsy teens had called him when they realized they were in no condition to drive home. Peter had never thought about truly getting drunk, but right now, in the chaotic wreckage of his mind, he just needed a break. 

Peter opened May’s liquor cabinet and looked at the different bottles. He found a bottle of Bacardi, vaguely remembering the night that Tony had gifted them the bottle, joking that Peter better stay away from it. Well, screw that.

Peter slipped into his room and ripped the cap off of the bottle and began to drink. He drew back from the drink and winced at the burn in his throat.   
But he didn’t care. 

Peter drank until the bottle was empty before moving back to the cabinet and finding another bottle of alcohol – at this point not caring what he was drinking - leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes, trying his best to escape the weight on his back. 

-

“Peter?” a voice came through the house as Peter stared at the door to his room. He should probably answer, but he didn’t really feel like it. “Hey, kid? Happy called as soon as I got out of my meeting, explained what happened and I just – you weren’t answering your phone and I know May is out of to- Pete?” The voice cut off and Peter realized that there was a person in the room with him. He heard a deep sigh. “Oh God, kid. What did you do?” Tony bent down in front of him, and Peter grunted as a hand was placed on his shoulder. “Is that- you didn’t?” Tony picked up the empty bottle of Bacardi and the worry spread across his face. “Okay, come on. Friday, what’s his BAC?” Tony asked, pointing his watch at Peter. 

“No.” Peter slurred, pushing Tony’s arms away from him sloppily. 

“Pete, be still.” Tony said again as he waited. 

“Mr. Parker’s Blood Alcohol Content is currently resting at 0.327%.” Friday said as Peter’s head flopped forward onto his chest. 

“Shit, Peter! What are you doing? How are you still awake?” Peter gave out a loose grunt. “Okay, let me rephrase that – how are your eyes still open?” Someone pulled Peter’s arm over their shoulder and he was lifted up. Peter listed sideways into Tony’s side, and the older man grunted at the weight that he was holding up. “You have alcohol poisoning, Peter. God, kid, you should’ve just asked for help.” Tony spoke as the two of them fumbled their way to the elevator. 

“M’ sorry.” Peter muttered as his vision swam in front of him. 

“Yeah, we’ll talk about it when you aren’t about to die.” Tony jabbed. Peter didn’t know what he was talking about as the boy turned his head and promptly threw up onto the elevator floor. 

“Alright, well I’ll pay to have that cleaned but at least you’re getting it out of your system.” They made it to the car, by some miracle and Tony buckled Peter in. 

“M’ hot.” Peter said as he felt the heat get turned on.

“No, you’re not. You’re cold Pete. Your fan was on, and your window was open. Alcohol makes you feel hot, which is why there’s no reason for you to be getting black-out drunk   
on a Thursday afternoon.” Peter grunted, not remembering what they were talking about as he closed his eyes. “Hey, keep em’ open, Underoos.” 

Peter was so confused. Who was Underoos and why weren’t they open?

-

When Peter woke up his head was pounding. He could feel the IV in his arm as he groaned and peeled his eyes open before snapping them shut at the assault of the lights on his eyes. 

“Ah – the prodigal son awakens.” Came a deep voice from beside him. “Friday, lights down to 10%. Alright, Pete you’re good to open your eyes up.” Peter obliged, turning his head to see Tony with a tablet in hand, his eyes deadly serious. 

“Hey.” Peter’s voice sounding like gravel, and Tony picked up on his discomfort, handing Peter a cup of water. 

“Yeah. Hey to you too. How’s the headache and nausea? I tried to convince Cho to refrain from the spidey-sized ibuprofen, but she told me that qualified as child abuse, and she’s never wrong so…” Tony’s voice tapered out as Peter just blinked at him, guilt overwhelming his chest. He didn’t remember much, he just knew that he had drank too much, and he figured Tony was going to rail into him about it. Peter knew he deserved it, but he didn’t think his brain could handle any loud noises right now. 

The last thing that Peter expected was a soft hand on his arm, and horribly concerned eyes staring straight at his. 

“Kid, I’m going to get you to start seeing someone.” This had Peter perking up, and he pushed himself up in bed. 

“Mr. Stark, I’m not going to become an alcoholic, it was one mistake-” Tony held up his hand and Peter’s voice tapered off. 

“Not about the alcohol, Pete. I can’t say anything about taking a drink to ease up emotions, okay? But it’s not okay. I walked into that room and saw you laying there against that wall and it was like a flashback to my college days where I grabbed a bottle before asking for help from a friend. I don’t want that for you. It may help for a few hours, but then you wake up and you’re left with a headache and you feel worse than you did before. I should’ve required you to go to one immediately after the accident, and I’m sorry I failed you like that.” Peter had gone quite, as he stared down at his hands. 

“So, I want you to meet with someone, just to talk everything out, because I don’t want you to go through what I had to go through before I realized that alcohol wasn’t the answer.” Peter nodded as Tony just stared at him.

“Okay.” Peter said, before his stomach drop. “May’s gonna kill me.” 

“Yeah. Yeah she is, but she put me on Peter duty this weekend. She got called into the hospital for night shifts the rest of the weekend. So, she’ll chew you out on Monday.” Tony reached forward, running his fingers through the kid’s hair. “Alright, that’s enough serious talk for now. I’m going to have Cho come discharge you, and I am calling a weekend of Star Wars and junk food, how about it, kid?”


	3. Hostage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okayyyy... here is chapter 3! This one got away from me and I think its the longest of the other three by far! I hope you all enjoy it! This has been a super fun side-project to write when I need a break from my Febuwhump!

Peter had left his therapists office with a warm heart. It had been a couple of months since the accident, and the idea of riding in a car was no longer giving him crippling anxiety. His therapist had seemed so relaxed and happy by his progress that she had let him out early for the day. 

Peter glanced at his watch and bit his bottom lip. He was going to the lab in about forty minutes when Happy arrived, so he had time to waste. Looking around, Peter found a small book and vinyl shop just across the street from where he was standing. MJ had been talking about finding a specific copy of Lord of Flies and Peter figured it would be pretty cool if he could find it for her before their dinner. Peter shot Tony a text explaining where he would need to be picked up, then jogged across the street.

Peter walked through the glass door, a small bell alerting the young man behind the desk of his presence. The kid doesn’t look up at Peter, worrying at his phone as he types out a message. Peter doesn’t care. The cashier was probably just a student at NYU trying to make ends meet. Peter began to fumble through the books. MJ had flippantly mentioned something about finding a copy with notes in the back or something. 

The door dinged, and Peter looked up to see a mom and two children walking into the store, the kids immediately running to the back wall where the children’s books were located. A smile played on Peter’s lips as he looked back at the books. Aha! There it was. He flipped through the copy, and as his eyes were gazing through the notes from some special author person, his spider sense flare raw and red. He snapped the book closed as the bell on the door clanged loudly. Peter ducked behind a shelf, sliding closer to the back of the store where the kids were. 

Then he heard yelling. A bang! A gun shot fired straight into the air and plaster fell from the ceiling. He heard the mother and kids screaming and Peter slammed the panic button on his watch as he ducked to the back aisle. The mom had wrapped her two kids in her arms and was huddling down, jumping when she noticed Peter. He waved his arms quickly, motioning her over to where he was. 

The book store was small and crowded. Rows and rows of books piling throughout the entire building. The ceiling was low and musty, and there was one entrance and one exit. This was a nightmare situation. 

The woman and her kids made it to Peter just as yelling began at the front of the store. Peter made out that it had something to do with money and drugs and overdue fees on the cashier’s part. 

“Stay down here. I’m going to get us out of this.” Peter whispered to the woman as she tucked the kids into the corner of the room. They were fairly well hidden in a small nook where one of the bookshelves didn’t quite reach the wall. 

“Hey!” He heard someone yelling behind him and a click of a gun. “Turn around slowly.” The voice said, and Peter did as he was told, taking stock of this part-time criminal. It was a younger guy, probably mid-twenties. He had dark hair and tattoos littering his whole body. Peter turned around, and stood up slowly, hands raised up in an open and non-threatening manner. 

“Shit, dude I didn’t know anyone else would be in here!” The guy with the handgun focused on Peter’s chest said to someone behind him. Another guy stepped around the corner, a little older than the kid in front of Peter and a lot meaner looking. He was bulkier, and his face was hard lines and bad choices. The man looked at Peter, glowering as he shrugged.

“So what, keep your gun on him. I’ll handle our business here and it’s no problem.” Okay. So these guys wanted their money and they would leave. Peter just had to keep the family safe and – a sneeze from behind Peter had him almost jumping out of his skin. The guy with the gun jumped too, and he side-stepped, able to see the family hidden in the corner now. He sung the gun from Peter to the family back to Peter. 

“Listen, it’s a mom and her kids – don’t – there’s no reason to bring them into this.” Peter whispered to the guy, praying he could get through to him. 

Thug 1 seemed convinced enough, but then Peter’s head snapped up to the cash register where Hard lines had begun to yell and shake his gun in the face of the college student.  
“Give me my money!” He screamed. 

“I don’t have any money!” Cashier guys screamed back, and Peter knew this was going to get ugly. The cashier looked up at Peter, his blue eyes lingering on Peter’s face for an instant too long before Thug 1 cleared his throat. 

“Boss, I got a family back here.” He said, quietly – as though unable to convince his conscious that he had done the right thing. 

“Bring me a kid.” Hard Lines said as he kept the gun on the cashier, and Peter wanted to scream out and throw Thug 1 into the wall, but there was too much at stake right now. The mother had begun to sob and beg. 

“Don’t – don’t take my baby! Don’t touch my baby, please! Please!” Her screams cut into Peter’s heart, but the man ripped the littlest girl from her arms, and the girl began to wail, screaming for her mom. 

“Shut up! Everybody, shut up!” Thug 1 brought the girl to Hard Lines, and the oldest of the two gripped her tightly to his chest and began to run the gun up and down her arm. The cashier looked more on edge and nervous as Thug 1 turned back to Peter. “You’re going to give me my money, Danny. Or this little girl here won’t go home with mommy today. You know I’ll do it.” He said, but the cashier had a strange look on his face as he looked back over to Peter. 

“Okay – Lucas, I don’t – I don’t have your money – but! But what if I can give you something better?” Lucas huffed turning to look at Thug 1 incredulously. 

“Oh, he can give me something better? You can give me something better? Sure, yeah you tell me what’s better than my 10 thousand dollars that you owe me, and we’ll see if I believe you.” Lucas leaned forward on the counter, the young girl pressed against his right hip, as his large arm kept her from wriggling out of his reach. 

The cashier pointed his bony finger straight at Peter and took a deep breath, his eyes screaming an apology. “That’s Tony Stark’s son.” He said, and he said it so matter-of-factly that Peter didn’t even know how to react. 

Lucas began to laugh then. A true belly-rolling, guttural laugh as he threw his head back, gesturing to Peter with the gun. 

“Him? That – scrawny little thing? Yeah right, at least you trie- “ 

“I can prove it! Look!” The cashier leaned over the counter, his hand finding a newspaper from the rack by the door. “See, Lucas, he was in an accident with Tony Stark, it was all over the papers. Kid almost died, but Stark kept him at his private facility, and well he got better. But he’s worth a lot more money than I am.” Danny pointed at a picture of Peter and Tony, and a paparazzi shot of the car accident. It was very clear by the photos that Peter knew Tony, and now he was screwed. Tony shouldn’t be far off now, he just had to figure out how to get out of this situation. He closed his eyes and let his head fall forward. His day had just gone from bad to a whole lot worse. 

Lucas dropped the girl, and she immediately ran back to her mom. The large man walked towards Peter with his gun pointing straight at him. 

“Well – it looks like today is my lucky day, huh, kid?” And Peter hated that he was using Mr. Stark’s nickname for him. 

“Well, I don’t know, my lucky days are usually Tuesday, so give me about five days and we’ll se- “The butt of Lucas’ gun caught Peter’s temple and a white-hot pain shot through his skull. 

“Don’t get a smart mouth with me.” The man barked before he held out his free hand. “Give me your phone.” Peter hesitated and the man slammed the gun into his head again.  
“Give me your phone, now!” Peter, still blinking spots from his vision, pulled his phone out and gave it to the guy. 

“You know I really am going to be late for me da- “Peter cried out when the butt of the gun met the right side of his ribcage. Nothing cracked, but it was sure to leave some solid bruising. 

“Brian, get me duct tape from the bag. Now – damn kid doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, just like his dad.” Peter wanted to correct them, and explain that Tony was not his father, but honestly, he wasn’t interested in another gut punch from the man that stood a solid six inches over him. He could beat him up easily, but he was Peter Parker right now, not Spider-Man. And he couldn’t risk the family’s safety. 

Brian came forward with a strip of duct tape and slapped in roughly across Peter’s mouth. He turned to Lucas and said, “I got the cuffs too.” Then he pulled Peter’s arms unceremoniously behind his back and clinked the cuffs on him. Peter could tell they were normal metal, and he could’ve broken out of them any day, though the rough twisting did cause a spike of pain to shoot up his left arm. 

Brian shoved Peter down against a bookshelf, and Peter let it happen. He crossed his legs and huffed a breath out of his nose. 

Lucas began to look through Peter’s Stark phone before finding the number that he had been looking for. Peter heard the phone get through half a ring before Tony’s worried voice came through the speaker, and Peter could tell by the audio that the man was in the suit. 

“Peter? Are you okay? I’m on my way to your location.” Tony began to ramble, and Peter really wished he had SHUT UP! Because Lucas was looking at him now with a wild rage in  
his eyes. 

“Peter can’t get to the phone right now, and if you want him to stay alive, I recommend you remain outside of his current location. I’ve got a gun to your kid’s head and I will use it.” Peter heard the clicking and felt the familiar coolness of the barrel against his forehead. “I want you to bring me five million dollars in a briefcase and you walk away with your kid.” Peter could hear Tony scoffing through the phone. 

“Yeah, how about this? You let my kid and whoever else you have locked away in that bookstore go, and I let you walk out with both of your legs?” Tony’s voice was deadly serious, and Lucas may not have been able to hear it, but Peter knew. Peter knew that Tony would really kill this man. 

“How about this?” Lucas held the phone up to Peter’s mouth, and with no hesitation his boot found Peter’s left ribcage in a sharp and swift kick. And Peter screamed. Because even though Lucas hadn’t meant to kick his already-weak ribs, he had. And Peter heard something snap, and he caught his breath, but every time he breathed it felt like a knife being driven into his lungs and – ow he wished Tony would get here quickly! 

“Don’t you touch him! I’ll get you your money, don’t you touch him again.” Tony said, but Peter could hear it. Lucas and Danny had no clue, but Peter heard two very specific voices coming from outside the poster-ridden windows. Tony was there, and so was Steve Rogers. Peter smiled through the pain. They were in Brooklyn after all, and one call mentioning any kid in danger would have Steve busting down doors and knocking people silly with his shield. 

Peter listened as the two discussed a plan, but a car horn began going off and he didn’t catch all of it. 

He could hear Lucas jabbing at Tony, threatening all the things that he would do to Peter if he got the chance, but then Tony heard something else. Tony was talking to him over the phone, he knew that Peter could hear him. 

“On the count of three, you drop.” The man said, and Lucas was so confused, but then Tony had already counted to down from three, so Peter threw himself flat on the ground, and the glass shattered, and there was Ironman and Captain America, well – Steve and his shield. Thank God the man hadn’t put on the full get-up, he would have been a little bit over dressed. 

And because these guys were drug-dealing thugs, and not professional hostage-takers, the men jumped back suddenly.  
To say that Peter wasn’t expecting the next thing that happened would be an understatement. Lucas grabbed Peter and hauled him to his feet after his split-second distraction of the glass. He wrapped an arm around Peter’s throat, and quite easily, lifted him straight off the ground. Peter began to choke, between the gag and the arm strangling him, no breath came to his aching lungs. Tony had his repulsors aimed straight for Lucas, but Peter was directly in the way. The mother and her kids ran out of the broken windows and to awaiting cop cars, and Peter felt a bit of relief. 

“Give me the money or your kid dies!” Peter began to struggle in earnest, but his arms were bound, and his throat was barely allowing a hiss of air in, and his legs kicked aimlessly in the air. 

“Drop him now!” Tony screamed as Steve delivered one swift knock of his shield to Danny’s head and the thug was out cold on the ground. 

“I don’t think so.” Lucas muttered, his arm tightening more, and now Peter really couldn’t breathe at all, and he kicked his legs again, but his vision was starting to fade, and he heard someone screaming as his legs went still and blood pounded in his skull.

All of the sudden he dropped straight to the ground, falling face-first on broken glass and he winced. Peter took in lung-shattering breaths, ignoring the pain in his side as he blinked to clear his vision. He glanced up from the floor and saw a red-haired woman with a gun – Natasha! Oh – he loved her even more now. 

Hands ripped off the cuffs from his arms, and then Peter was being sat up, looking in the face of a (very) worried Tony. His mentor pulled the duct tape from Peter’s lips slowly, and Peter immediately suck in greedy breaths. 

“-okay? Peter, are you okay?” The noise around him faded back in and Peter nodded, dropping his pounding head on Tony’s shoulder. 

“M’ fine.” He muttered. 

“Yeah, well, you’ll have to wait until we get a ‘you’re fine’ from Bruce before I release you. So, come on.” Tony hauled Peter up to his feet, and Peter winced, grabbing at his ribcage. Tony put his arm over Peter’s shoulder, and they began to walk over the glass to the car. 

“Steve, Nat, you two got this under control?” Tony asked as Happy opened the car that he had outside waiting for them. 

“Yeah, go get him checked out. We’ll send the information about everything over soon.” 

And that was all the go-ahead Tony needed as him and Peter climbed into the car. Something was being pushed into Peter’s hands and he glanced down. It was some type of rag.  
“Hold it to your nose, you’ve got quite the bleed happening.” Tony said, putting an arm over Peter’s shoulder. The teen melted into Tony’s hold, and sighed. 

“- was just trying to get MJ a book.” He muttered. 

“Huh?” Tony asked, his hand rubbing Peter’s sore shoulder. 

“MJ – wanted a special copy of this book, was just trying to get it for her before our date.” Peter closed his eyes, the lull of the car carrying him closer and closer to the edge of an exhausted sleep. 

“Yeah, well – next time just tell me what the book is, and I’ll order it online.”


	4. Attacked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - the reason this chapter took so long is because my brain was FROZEN about what to do for this chapter, but here it is finally! Also, let it be known, I wrote 3 one-shots today and then updated a chapter of this, and honestly that will never happen again and I'm so shook about how much I got to write today! I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Warning: Panic attack, mild self-harm I guess (Peter punches a window out of anger, but just wanted to put out a warning for you guys!)

Peter was finally relaxed. It had been a couple of months since the bookstore fiasco, and his life had quieted down a bit. It was summer now, and he had finished out his junior year with honors, and honestly, he had been so proud of himself. He had been so behind on his homework after the accident that he could have sworn that he would never make it all up. 

To be fair, he had had a bit of help from FRIDAY, but nobody needed to know about that.

Tony had decided that he wanted to go to central park for the day. Enjoy the weather. He had called Peter the night before, claiming that Pepper was gone on a business trip, and he didn’t want to go alone. Peter had happily obliged, wanting a break from the business of spider-manning all day every day. 

The two had been halfway through their walk when Tony had stopped the two of them. “Come on, let’s hop across the street. I’m starving, and there’s a dinner I like just around the corner. You can cool off, and we can get some burgers.” The man prompted. He must have picked up on how hot Peter was. Thermoregulation had been a curse on him ever since the spider-bite. Originally, he thought he was only affected by the cold, but the first summer into doing his thing, he had almost had a heatstroke, so Tony had put a thermal regulator in his suit for him. 

But now, walking around without the suit during extreme weather took a toll on him. 

“Yes, I would love to be in AC for a bit.” Peter replied. The two jay-walked across the street, heading over to a small diner where they immediately found a booth.

“So, how’s the scary girl?” Tony asked after they had given their order and the waitress brought their burgers and cokes out. Peter took a long swig of the Dr. Pepper and sighed. 

“She’s good! Busy doing an intern at the New York Times. She’s loving it. We have a date tomorrow night.” Peter said before taking a bite from one of the three burgers Tony had ordered him. 

“How are you feeling about senior year? Pretty crazy that you’ll be eighteen pretty soon.” Tony said, feeling a bit awkward. He didn’t quite know how he was going to push into the deeper traumas. Peter had been experiencing. He wanted to know how the kid was really doing, but he didn’t want to threaten the kid off from being open with him by throwing thousands of questions his way. 

“Yeah – it’s – it’s crazy. I just keep feeling like it’s not real. But I’m going to apply to Columbia. I don’t think I want to leave New York.” Tony went to say something, but Peter stopped him. “No – I know. I have to go to college; I want to go to college. And sure, if I didn’t have the internship I would probably try to get into MIT- “ 

“Kid, all it would take is for MIT to take one look at you and they would be begging you to come into their program.” 

“Ha-ha - but I’m serious. I want to go to college… but I don’t think that I can stop being Spider-man.” Peter said, looking down as he took another couple of bites. 

“Okay. If you’re going to college and being spider-man, as long as it doesn’t become detrimental to your health, I’ll support wherever you want to go. Whatever you want to do. You know that.” Tony said. 

They spent a few minutes talking about pointless things before Peter finally looked up. 

“You know, I really am doing good. I’ve still been going to therapy, but my therapist says she thinks that I can start tapering off now. I can ride in cars again without feeling like I’m about to crawl out of my skin – I also never became panicky about bookstores which is a great thing. But really – I haven’t – the alcohol thing was once. I’m doing good.” Peter said. 

“I’m glad, that’s good to hear. I want you to know – I’m terrible about reaching out. I don’t think I ask the right questions, but whatever you need, whenever you need it. I’m here, okay?” 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” 

By the time they finished off their meals, the two were cooled off and ready to finish their walk around the park. Tony paid, and went to step outside where Peter was waiting for him, but the kid had disappeared. 

“Peter?” He asked, looking to his right just in time to see the kid sprint around the corner and hear a girl scream. Tony took off after him, forming a gauntlet around his right hand as he turned the corner, but Peter already had it taken care of. The girl ran past Tony, gripping her purse tightly to her chest as Peter knelt over a man, his fist raised. What threw Tony off was the look on his kid’s face.

Peter was paler than a ghost. His fist was shaking like a leaf. And his face was plastered with a murderous look.

The guy under Peter was already webbed to the ground, unmoving, and Tony’s heart dropped when Peter threw a barely-held-back punch to guys jaw. 

He snapped into action when blood ran from the man’s face. 

“Peter! Peter – get up! Get up now!” Tony hooked his arms under Peter’s dragging the kid backwards as he kicked and screamed. 

“No! No – h-he deserves it! He – oh God-” Peter turned his head, vomiting onto the concrete as his body shook like a leaf. 

“I called the cops, let’s just get out of here, okay?” Tony said, but Peter shook his head, shoving himself off of Tony. 

“You don’t get it- Look!” Peter said, pointing a quivering finger at the guy’s left wrist. There was a black star tattooed there – he – oh. This was the guy. The one that had killed the kid’s uncle. Of course Peter was losing his marbles right now. 

“Okay, I see. I see, just come with me. Let’s get back to the car. I’ll have FRIDAY contact the police. Don’t do something you’ll regret.” Tony said, tugging Peter’s arm. 

“The only thing I regret is not killing him the first time I saw him.” Peter’s voice was stone. Too serious for Tony’s liking. Too honest. That wasn’t something Tony had ever wanted to hear come from Peter’s lips. Peter was kind. He used webs instead of weapons to keep from harming the men he tied up. Even the men that tried to kill him. Peter wasn’t a killer. So with those words, Tony began to drag harder. Pulling the kid away from the unconscious man and to his SUV as Peter stared at the ground, barely breathing. Tony all but shoved the kid into the car before climbing in himself. 

He turned the car on, blasting the AC, but he didn’t drive. 

“Okay – talk.” Tony said, no anger or malice in his voice. “Why him? I know that he did that to your uncle – but you’re not a killer, Peter.” Tony said quietly. 

“He – he shot my uncle. For no reason. He- he thanked me. I let- I let him get away. I was angry, and the gas station clerk was a dick, and I let him get away. And I should have killed him before he left that gas station -because I would have still had my uncle!” Peter’s voice had slowly grown in volume, until he turned and slammed his fist into the glass of the car- shattering it and slicing his knuckles in the process. 

“Peter!” Tony cried. “Come on, we’re going to the tower.” Tony reached behind the seat, grabbing a t-shirt for Peter to wrap around his bloodied knuckles. 

“No – no – I – “Peter leaned forward, like all his anger had been leached from him and he began to sob. His shoulders shook with the weight of his cries. Tony wrapped the kid’s wrist himself. He went to drive the car, but stopped when Peter turned to him, opening his arms. 

“Oh, kid- “Tony grabbed Peter, rubbing his hand on the back of his shirt in circles. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He muttered as the boy shook.

“I just want to go home. I haven’t – I haven’t seen him since. I’m sorry that I reacted like that. I’m sor-I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Ben, I’m so sorry!” He kid began to disintegrate in front of him, his body shaking once more.

“Peter – it’s Tony. You’re in the car with me. You’re okay.” Tony said, holding Peter’s right arm a bit too tightly before the kid pulled back – his breath hitching before the fog cleared from his eyes. 

“Tony?” Peter’s voice was broken – barely a whisper as his voice hiccupped with sobs. “Can we go to the tower now please?” Tony nodded, before pulling Peter in tight for another hug. 

“Yeah, buddy. We’ll go back to the tower. Just rest okay? The police have him. He’ll never hurt an innocent person again. I promise. You’re okay.” Peter nodded, leaning up against the seat, crying silently as he squeezed his eyes closed.

It didn’t take long to get back to Tony’s private floor on the tower. He moved Peter to the couch, giving the kid a blanket and spider-sized ibuprofen. He knew how bad his headaches got after his panic attacks. 

“I’m going to get some stuff to wrap your hand and some juice for you, okay?” Tony said after examining the kid’s hand. The cuts were superficial, almost scabbed over. He would put some Neosporin on them and wrap it up, and the kid would be good as new the next morning. Peter nodded, silent from where he sat. 

Tony made it back in less than five minutes, handing Peter a cup of apple juice and kneeling in front of the couch, taking the kid’s right hand. He applied the antibiotic and began to wrap his hand gently. 

“Sorry about your window.” Peter said in between sips of juice, his hands had finally stopped shaking. 

“Hah, don’t worry about my window Peter. How are you feeling?” Tony finished up, sliding onto the couch beside Peter. 

“I have a headache, but I’ll be fine.” He whispered looking down. 

“Uh-uh. No shutting me out. You – Peter you almost killed that man. You said you wish you had and that your uncle’s death was on you. Now, you don’t have to talk to me. You can save this for your therapist, but – Peter – you have to talk to someone.” Tony insisted.

“Um – it was my fault. That night. With my uncle. And, I just – I saw him, and I lost control. I know that it’s not actually my fault, I know that I wasn’t the one that shot the gun, okay? I just saw him, and I freaked out.” Peter rushed out. 

“Pete?” The kid sighed, leaning back.

“I’m serious. I’m okay. I just – I’m really tired. I will talk to you about all of it, but right now – right now just really want to watch a cheesy movie and take a nap.” Tony nodded, patting Peter’s arm. 

“Alright. But I’m here for you. No matter what.” Peter smiled then, a sad look still in his eyes. 

“I know.”


	5. Collapse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here she is! Not going to lie to you guys... this is the last chapter with a happy ending. So... but I mean - if you've read the title you have understood that this whole time. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> This chapter is for my dear friend @Justme--Emily who said she wanted "Omg okay, so I love worried Tony and protective Tony and Tony taking care of Peter so any of those!! " when I asked her for something she would want from this chapter! So here we are! Enjoy :)

Peter raced around the corner of the warehouse, webbing up the Hydra agents by the tens. They seemed to be everywhere – coming out of secret tunnels like ants after their hill is stepped on. Tony and Rhodes were flying around, doing their best to push the agents back. After about thirty minutes of fighting, they seemed to finally be gaining some wiggle room. The men came out in fewer numbers, becoming more manageable. 

That is – until Peter’s web shooters ran out of fluid.

“Shit!” He cried as he kicked the man nearest to him.

“What would Cap say?” Tony asked. 

“I honestly don’t- “Peter punched on of the men and threw him into the wall. It was hand-to-hand combat for him now. “Care right now! I’m out of fluid!” He cried wrapping his legs around one of the agent’s necks and twisting around before hitting the guy in the temple, dropping him like a bag of bricks. He silently thanked Natasha for the training she had been giving him. 

“Alright, Peter. Just hang on then. Do what you can hand-to-hand. Stay safe.” Rhodes said as he shot tranquilizers into the hordes of men. They were outmanned, but Tony’s tech couldn’t be rivaled. 

The bad part was, the Hydra agents were also realizing that. And Hydra agents were insane. Peter didn’t know why the three of them had chosen to attack this base. It was right on the coast of Massachusetts, and Tony had invited Peter along to give him something to do. Peter had been so proud that he had been invited on a mission like this. It was so cool! But now, in the warehouse that looked out over the ocean, as his Spider-sense raised to full awareness, he felt a weird pang of regret. Something bad was about to go down.

“Tony – “He went to warn the man, but he was interrupted by a chorus of agents screaming out. 

“Hail Hydra! Hail Hydra! Hail Hydra!” Three times. Then it detonated. Tony and Rhodes had been flying near the top of the warehouse, shooting into the crowds below. That’s where Peter should have been. 

Instead, he was on the ground when the bomb detonated. 

Peter was thrown forward – he hit something hard. 

Something hard hit him, and his vision went black as someone screamed his name. 

-

Peter woke up, and he didn’t feel like it had been longer than a few seconds. It was pitch black where he was. Then he felt the weight. Crushing him. Another warehouse – another car. Pushing him – dragging him – wrenching him into the ground. He wanted to scream but dust and debris had him coughing violently. 

His ears were ringing SO loudly as he grunted. He tried to move, his upper body was fairly free, face-down on a concrete floor. His left leg was stuck out somewhere, what concerned Peter was his right leg. From mid-thigh and down he couldn’t move it. His body was completely pinned down by what Peter assumed to be the entire warehouse crumpled on top of him. 

“eter?! Peter! Can you hear me?” Tony’s voice suddenly filled Peter’s ear as he coughed. 

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m just stuck.” Peter took as deep of a breath as he could. 

“Okay, we are scanning the damage now. We’ll get you out of there soon, okay?” Peter nodded before realizing Tony couldn’t see him.

“Okay. My leg – it’s pinned. I probably have a concussion, but -uh – I don’t feel too bad. I think my leg is just pinned under the concrete. It doesn’t feel broken.” 

“That’s good. Alright, FRI just finished her scan. We are removing the debris in order to keep it from shifting, give us ten minutes and you’ll be out of there. Can you see anything?” Tony asked as Peter breathed out a sigh of relief. 

“No. It’s pitch black right now.” 

“Okay. Just focus on breathing, alright? You doing good?” Tony asked again.

“If you’re asking if I’m going to have a panic attack because I’ve been crushed by a warehouse and a car, the answer is shockingly – no. I’m not having a panic attack. I can breathe. You’re almost to me. Just nine minutes and fifteen seconds to –“ Peter paused, his breath catching. “TONY! TONY! GET ME OUT! GET ME OUT!” Peter began to try and pull himself out, but he couldn’t gain any purchase as he writhed. 

Because the space he was in was filling up with dirty bay water. And with how he was positioned – three minutes from now he would be underwater. 

“Peter? Peter, I need you to calm down. Okay, remember how you were saying you could breathe? Don’t panic on me now.” Tony’s voice was calm, but Peter didn’t care one bit. 

“Tony! It’s – wa- the – it’s filling up with water!” Peter shivered at the cold as he continued to pull at his leg. “You have to get me out of here!” Peter cried once more. 

“Shit – okay. Hang on!” Peter let Tony stop talking so the man could focus. 

He propped himself up on his elbows as the water hit his shoulders. 

“Tony – it’s coming in really quick. Please hurry.” Peter whimpered, forcing himself to breathe. 

“Hang on! We’re five minutes out!” Tony cried, but Peter wanted nothing more than to beg and scream that that was too long. 

“I’m not going to be able to talk soon – but – I’ll hold my breath as long as I can.” Despite the pinch it caused in his back, Peter tilted his chin up, as the water rose to his jawline. “I – uh – I love yo-” Peter didn’t get the chance to get his words out as the water rose above his face. 

He knew he could hold his breath for a while. But it wouldn’t be long enough. 

“Don’t you say goodbye – don’t you dare!” He could hear Tony and Rhodes grunting on the other side of the line, knew they moving around as much debris as they could. 

His lungs began to strain, and he knew that soon enough he wouldn’t be able to hold off any longer. 

“Two minutes! Give me two minutes Peter!” Peter shook his head, because he was about to burst. “You hang on! Dammit, don’t you dare give up on me!” Tony cried, his voice leaking desperation. 

Peter wanted to apologize as his lungs rejected holding his air in anymore. Now he just had to see how long he could go without breathing in. 

“Come on – Peter, if you can hear me, just hang on! I’m almost there!” 

But he couldn’t. Peter’s lungs spasmed, burned, ached. 

He couldn’t remember anything else. 

Crunching. It hurt to breath. Something was too heavy on his chest. 

He felt sick, liquid forcing its way up his throat – out of his nose and mouth. He turned his head, and gagged. Then there were hands on his back – pulling and turning. Patting. 

“There you go – there you go. Just get it up, Peter. We’ve got you.” He knew that voice – couldn’t quite place it. 

He continued to gag, coughing and sputtering as hands braced his head for him. Something blessedly warm was pressed over his mouth as his lung began to be filled with warm air. Peter’s body shook like a leaf in the wind as someone pushed his back to help him sit up. 

“Open your eyes for me.” Tony’s voice filled his ears, and he did just that. Blinking water from them as he stared at the man in front of him. 

“Okay, Cho is on her way with Happy, and we will get you to the tower. Just focus on breathing for me right now, okay?” Peter nodded before he let himself fall forward, his energy leached from his body as he closed his eyes, head resting on Tony’s chest as he relished in every breath that he took.


	6. Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp - guys - all I have to say is that I am so sorry. This chapter had ME crying while I wrote it (not a good sign). 
> 
> Thanks for hanging out during this one! I had such a great time writing this! 
> 
> If you want a happy ending read the first five chapters as a stand alone - don’t come for me
> 
> WARNING: this does NOT have a happy ending. Read the title of this work. Yell at me - but be nice please :) Enjoy

Peter was asleep in his room at the tower when he heard it. A loud, shrill alarm rang out over FRIDAY’s speakers and he jerked awake. Peter was on his feet immediately pulling on a t-shirt and tennis shoes before rushing from his room. 

“FRI what’s happening?” Peter asked as he rushed to the elevators. 

“There has been a security breach. Mr. Stark requested that you go to the main lab on floor thirteen and protect it should the need arise. I will take you there now.” FRIDAY said, opening the elevator for Peter, who grumbled in annoyance. 

“Yeah – of course. Stick me on protection mode – you know – I could be a lot more help to him somewhere else.” Peter said, reaching up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Hey, what time is it anyway? Where is everyone?” Peter asked. 

“It is currently four thirty-two in the morning, and the rest of the avengers in the tower are on the top floor fighting off a group of highly trained operatives. Their end-goal is not yet known, but the most valuable assets in this tower are in the lab. The team’s goal is to keep the men from getting anywhere near you.” 

“Okay. I’m going to need my suit.” Peter said, jogging off the elevator. 

“Of course, it is unlocked for you inside the lab already.” FRIDAY said as Peter swiped his thumb. He immediately pulled on his suit, readying himself for whatever may come. 

“Hey – I’m on comms now. Is there anything else I can do for you guys?” Peter asked, sitting on the desk as he swung his feet, nerves rushing through his body.

“Good – just man the lab. Whatever these guys are here for, odds are they are here for some of my tech. Our goal is to keep them from you, so just hang out there in case one or two slip by.” Tony said. 

“Okay, just, let me know if you need anything else.” Peter said his fingers tapping out a rhythm on his leg. 

Ten minutes later Peter looked up at the hallway in front of him. He cocked his head, listening closely. 

“Tony? Did – are one of you on the thirteenth floor?” Peter asked warily. 

“Nope – go right Sam! About fifteen minutes and we should have this all under control!” Tony said, before he began to yell at Steve to go high. Peter just continued to watch the hallway – swearing that he could hear something. 

To say that Peter wasn’t expecting for the lights to go out is an understatement. Everything cut out, and he jumped up onto his feet, looking around with no way of seeing. 

“FRI? Wh-what’s going on?” Peter asked. “Lights up, maybe?” 

FRIDAY didn’t answer. Peter knew it would only take about ten more seconds for the backup generator to kick in… but then he heard the hissing of the lab door and his blood froze. 

With a blinding brightness the lights came on, red flashing throughout the building as Peter took a deep breath. About five men stood in the room with him, and he rolled his shoulders as the doors locked behind them.

“Hey guys – you know, I was wondering when the fun would come to me! I’ve been waiting forever!” He cried, as he went to web up the men. There were too many of them, though. He hit and kicked, but it wasn’t until he dropped four of the men before he realized that one, he was missing one. 

Peter whirled around, his heart stammering as he looked for the fifth. He found him, at one of Tony’s strange contraptions in the corner. It wasn’t until he saw the man with some type of vial in his hand, about to uncap it when it clicked. 

The device he was standing over was something Tony and Bruce had cooked up that was meant to act as a way to spread a quick cure for a biological weapon in case of emergencies. Honestly, Peter had never asked because Tony came up with thousands of ideas for ways to protect others, so he’d just figured it would be another device that would sit in the lab, unmoving. 

But these guys were bad news. They definitely weren’t there to release a cure. Peter lunged across the room, but he heard someone behind him. Whipping his head around, he saw one of the guys he had dropped was opening the lab door. If Peter didn’t stop him and the other guys released the biological weapon – it would all be over. 

He had a choice to make. Protect the world or try and protect himself. 

“FRIDAY! Keep the door the locked!” He cried, but it was no use, he knew that she was still down. So he did the one thing he knew to do. 

Tony had a built-in shut down button in case of a chemical emergency. 

Peter leapt over a work bench, his hand reaching out just as the man behind him released the contents of the vial into the tube. 

Peter pulled the lever and immediately a blue light and a new – louder – siren rang out across the tower. The AC units and doors sealed themselves shut, and Peter rested in the knowledge that the only way they would open was from the outside. 

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” One of the men cried, but Peter knew that he needed to finish the job before he became too weak. 

He went for the one by the machine first, delivering a sharp kick to the side of the guy’s head and dropping him like a rock. It was a matter of seconds before the other guy was down as well. 

Peter turned, leaning against the wall – suddenly feeling violently claustrophobic as he ripped his mask off. He could hear the men around him coughing, blood dripping from their mouths as the weapon did what it was meant to do. Peter figured that with his accelerated healing, he had about ten to fifteen minutes. 

“Pete – wh- why is the lab completely shut down?” Tony asked, already knowing that he didn’t want to know the answer. 

“Tony – I – I need you to get down here…” His voice cut out as he bent over coughing. “Now.” He whispered. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do – no. Actually, he did. He knew that this was it. Staring at the wall of photographs that Tony had put up – Peter knew that he would never take a new one. 

He grinned, seeing the picture of himself and Tony – their fake internship photo. He had been so happy that day – so overwhelmed and excited. Tony had made him take it after he found out about how much crap Flash was giving Peter about his fake internship. 

Peter saw another picture that brought – mixed emotions. Him and Tony, suited up as they fought the crazy people from Space just before the dusting. 

Then a picture of Tony and Peter at the lake house. It had been Christmas, the two of them laughing on the front steps. Pepper had taken the photo without them knowing. 

The picture of Peter in his graduation cap, him and Tony holding the MIT acceptance letter between them. A look of pride on Tony’s face that just screamed – well, Peter couldn’t deny that it looked like the pride of a father. He was supposed to graduate in three months. That wasn’t going to happen. He was going to ask MJ to move in with him. He was relieved to know that he had left goodbyes to everyone he know, having written letters to them all in case of an untimely death. 

Peter coughed once more, leaning heavily against the glass that was blocking him from the outside. 

He turned his head when he heard footsteps. Tony, Bruce, and Sam came racing around the corner, worry screaming from their eyes. 

“Peter! Open the door!” Tony cried, but Peter shook his head vehemently. 

“NO! You – you can’t! FRIDAY has to clean the room. It’s -they released something.” Peter stated, and Tony looked around, his eyes landing on the dead bodies of the men as his heart stuttered. 

“Oh God.” The man said, looking like he were about to collapse.

“Natasha- get FRIDAY running, now!” Bruce cried into the coms, but Peter knew. It wouldn’t be enough. His body was failing. 

Peter felt exhausted as his knees wobbled. 

“Okay – Peter – can you get to the medical kit that we keep in there?” Bruce asked, but the doctor already knew the Peter wouldn’t be able to. Just as he thought, the kid began to cough, bending over as he coughed and coughed. 

“Breathe – just – just breathe buddy.” Tony said, placing his hand on the glass. He turned to Bruce, his obvious shock and fear lacing his eyes. 

“Tell me there’s something we can do – please – please!” Tony begged. 

“Tony – we don’t know how far this substance will spread. If we – if we open the door, everyone in this building will die – possibly spreading to the rest of the city. He wouldn’t want that.” Bruce said. “If – if he can hold out until FRI gets back running… maybe.” But the way Bruce’s voice trails off has a sob ripping out of Tony. 

“Oh God, no.” He turned back around as Peter finally stopped coughing, pushing himself up with his hand but Tony only cared about the fact that Peter’s elbow, where he had been coughing into, was covered with dark blood. 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said, before his knees gave out on him. Peter dropped down, his back leaned against the side of a cabinet, his left hand pressed firmly against the glass. Tony put his own up beside Peter’s, relishing in being as close as he possibly could to his kid. Peter’s breathing was getting more and more labored, his face covered in sweat as his eyes rolled to meet Tony’s. Those eyes that would be plastered in Tony’s every thought. He couldn’t do this. Not again. 

“Hey, buddy. You just keep those eyes on me, okay? I’m right here.” Tony’s voice was low and serious, only cracked by the sobs that threatened to take over. 

“You – I am so… lucky. I can’t – when I lost my dad – “Peter coughed, not having the energy to cover his mouth as blood trailed down his throat. 

“Buddy, just breathe, okay?” Tony said, but Peter gave his head a slight shake. 

“No – I – when I lost my dad, I thought that I wouldn’t ever have another one. I – I was young, but I understood. But then Ben – and – and then I – “Peter coughed again. More blood. Too much. His lungs rattled. “Ben – everything happened – I didn’t… I didn’t think that I would be this lucky again – I didn’t – you – you did everything for me and me – thank you. I l- I lov- “Peter choked off again, leaning forward as he coughed. His small frame shook. 

Tony waited for the fit to pass – but it seemed to last too long, carrying on until Peter’s coughs didn’t cease just grew more and more weak. As he finally choked out one last, pitiful cough, the kid sat back, his left hand still gripping the glass across from Tony’s. 

“I love you too, Peter. I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have been here alone. But I love you. I never -I never thought I would have kids. I never thought that I would find someone that I could be this proud of. And I am – I am so proud of you. Peter, I am so proud of you.” Tony watched as the kid’s eyes dragged over to meet his, he could see it, in Peter’s eyes. This was really the end. All the times Tony got the kid out. All of the times that Tony thanked God that he had another day with his kid. All the times they laughed, cried, joked. All of the times that Tony had never thought he would look back on in grief. He was utterly unready for this phase of his life. A faze of his life wracked with grief. A face of his life without Peter Parker. 

Father’s shouldn’t outlive their sons. 

Peter seemed to try and cough – but his lungs simply spasmed, as he seemed to choke. 

“D’n’t – d’n’t leave me. L’ve you.” Peter’s voice was hardly a whisper, but Tony heard him. He heard him. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Peter. I’m right here. You’re not alone. I’m right here, buddy.” Tony’s voice broke as Peter’s chest gasped- and didn’t move. The kid’s eyes stilling – a look that would haunt Tony for the rest of his life. 

He should have never had to see Peter’s eyes without life behind him. 

The kid’s hand fell from the glass, and Tony let himself weep, falling forward until his head was laid flat against the glass – his eyes plastered on the kid, because he wouldn’t dare look away. 

Tony felt hands on his back, pulling him away but he tried to shake them off. 

“No! I can’t- I can’t leave him! He’s just a kid, I can’t – he doesn’t want to be alone! Please!” Tony gasped around a sob. “Please – he can’t be alone!” Tony cried and pulled, trying his best to get back to his kid. Something pricked his arm – and his world was drowned in sorrow and grief. 

-

There was a Spider-Man statue put up in honor of Peter. It never failed to have flowers, art, and notes of his good deeds laid at the base of it. The team had released Peter’s name, let the world know what the kid had done for them. There were memorials, people crying out their thanks to the boy from Queens who had given it all to save them. 

The world grieved Ironman, too. The man who had seemingly retired after the snap. They hadn’t seen the man since news of that fateful night – rumors of a house in the woods of upstate New York, a quiet life on the farm. But every once in a while, – from under a dark baseball cap and sunglasses – someone visiting Spiderman’s memorial – might see it. Might see him. 

The man who held the weight of the world, the man who had become Atlas, standing at the base of the memorial. Talking to the kid that had left him too soon. Telling him about his favorite memories, whispering to him about the new things in his life. 

Every once in a while, someone would see a man who held the weight of the world, the world who had cursed him over and over again to lose those who he loved. But, as the man would tell anyone who asked him about Peter Parker, maybe if there was someone who would always love the kid, someone who would always visit his memorial to thank him once more for his actions – well maybe Peter Parker would never truly die.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos make my day!
> 
> Come visit me on Tumblr @itsreallylaterightnow


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